


bites

by kiyala



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-18
Updated: 2018-04-18
Packaged: 2019-04-24 14:22:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14357289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiyala/pseuds/kiyala
Summary: A collection of Akashi/Mayuzumi drabbles.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the promtp: Akashi is a brilliant young composer. Most people don't know that the inspiration for all his best pieces is Mayuzumi.

It's a warm afternoon and Chihiro is lounging on the plush rug in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows in their Tokyo penthouse. Seijuurou pauses in between turning the pages of his book, his attention captured by the briefest glimpse of skin as Chihiro's shirt lifts when he stretches lazily, arranging himself more comfortably in the sun like a particularly large cat. 

It makes Seijuurou's fingers itch, though he can't tell whether it's for his pen, or Chihiro. He settles on the latter, setting his book aside and crossing the small distance between them, socks scuffing against the carpet. Chihiro blinks his eyes open, tipping his head back against the rug so he can regard Seijuurou, standing above him and watching him. 

"Well?" Chihiro asks, stretching more deliberately this time, shirt lifting to his belly button. 

Seijuurou kneels over him, caging him in on all fours and kissing the sun from his skin, slow and warm and languid just like their summers in Tokyo always are. Chihiro's fingers scratch through Seijuurou's hair as they part their lips against each other, exchanging breaths on an exhale, lungs expanding as they breathe each other in on the next turn. Seijuurou's fingers slide underneath the hem of Chihiro's shirt and skim along his rib cage, tapping out a rhythm there until Chihiro huffs and pushes him away, not amused but not irritated either. 

"Write that down before you forget it," he murmurs, his lips pink and wet from Seijuurou's kisses. 

"I won't forget," Seijuurou replies, and leans back in to make Chihiro's lips even redder with his teeth, punctuating his kisses with bites to Chihiro's neck like a bass line.

"You're ridiculous," Chihiro sighs, but his grip on Seijuurou is encouraging, a request for more that he'll never put into words. He doesn't protest, however, as Seijuurou drafts out a new piece with him as the instrument, letting it settle into its own natural rhythm with its crescendos, changing key, speeding up, then slowing down before speeding up again. 

"Ridiculous," Chihiro breathes, when Seijuuro is done with him. Chihiro's shoulder is littered with hickeys and Seijuurou presses his thumb against one, wondering whether he can write an entire symphonic movement about the one shaky gasp. He thinks that he'd like to try. 

"You can title this one _Bite Me_ ," Chihiro supplies helpfully, fingers still threaded in Seijuurou's hair and holding him close. "Considering that's all you did the whole time. Your audience will love it. Thirty more awards. Nobody will figure out that you're writing music about getting laid. You're too proper for that, aren't you?"

"You know better," Seijuurou hums, content to enjoy the sun's warmth.

"Lucky me," Chihiro mutters sarcastically, but the slight upward turn to his lips gives him away. Seijuurou leans in to kiss it, and decides it can't hurt to write another study about it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: Akashi takes polaroids of anything, everything.

The apartment feels eerily still without Seijuurou's presence. There isn't even the usual background noise, whether it be the classical music radio station or the news, or the empty teacups stacked in the sink because Akashi is still developing the habit of doing his own dishes. Chihiro doesn't like it. Most of all, he hates the way that he feels like he's being overdramatic. Save that for Seijuurou, he thinks with no small amount of irritation. Chihiro has no need for it.

He still thinks about it, as he cooks and eats dinner for one, as Seijuurou dines at the Akashi family manor with his father. 

Clicking his tongue, Chihiro finishes the last of his meal and puts his bowl into the sink, beside Seijuurou's teacups. Here, he thought he was being careful.

There's a large box under their bed, filled with albums, and Chihiro pulls it out, dumping its contents out across the top of their quilt. Albums, dating over the last couple of years, of all the polaroid photos that Seijuurou has taken. They're protected with plastic and Chihiro allows himself this small lapse in control, as he strokes his fingers over the photos. Most of them are pictures of the two of them, together. Places that they've been to, food they've eaten, all with Seijuurou's neat script noting the time and place where each photo was taken. 

Sometimes, there are pages full of photos that just feature Seijuurou, sitting at his desk, patiently indulgent as Chihiro picks up his camera and starts snapping photos instead.

( _Why do you insist on taking so many photos?_ Chihiro asked once.

 _I want to hold onto everything that I can_ , Seijuurou replied, and Chihiro snorted at the answer, entirely unsurprised.

_You're greedy, Sei._

_Yes, I am._ ) 

Chihiro waits up, and it's past one in the morning when the door to their apartment clicks open and Seijuurou lets himself in. 

They stare at each other for a moment, and Seijuurou crosses the room, pulling Chihiro into his arms and kissing him hard. 

"Not yet," he whispers, in answer to Chihiro's unspoken question. He kisses all over Chihiro's face, fingers curling in his hair, and none of this feels greedy to Chihiro at all. It feels like Seijuurou is scared. "He hasn't mentioned anything about potential matches just yet."

Their relationship has a timeline on it, and it's a bitter truth that sits at the back of Chihiro's mind. It's a timeline that is out of their control, but he knows that one day, Seijuurou's father will decide that it's time for the family line to continue. 

He doesn't question what Seijuurou's response will be. 

Seijuurou leads the way to their bedroom, where the albums have already been put neatly away again. He reaches under the bed, for a smaller box. These photos are not organised, and they're not labelled, but they're of Chihiro, of the books he likes to read, the tea he likes to drink. A chronicle of everything that makes Chihiro the person that he is, and Seijuurou touches the corners of every single photo, as if reminding himself that he still has this, for now. 

"Hey," Chihiro says quietly, pulling Seijuurou's hand away and linking their fingers together. "Why dwell on that when you have the real thing?" 

Seijuurou smiles, but he still looks unhappy. Chihiro kisses him, again and again, until it goes away.

(It isn't greed at all, and Chihiro has always known that; Seijuurou is driven by fear, more than anything else. Chihiro can't chase it away. He can only manage it, while he still can.)


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: reincarnation AU

Seijuurou is walking through the gymnasium, assessing the other members of the basketball club, when he spots a head of light grey hair, so familiar that he might as well be looking at a ghost. Mayuzumi Chihiro, Seijuurou thinks to himself, checking the clipboard that he's holding. At a glance, he could be an older version of Kuroko, and that's where the familiarity must come from, he thinks. Except that doesn't feel entirely right, because—

He frowns. There's no other resemblance that he can place.

Except—

_Except—_

Seijuurou blinks his eyes open to find himself in a different place, at a different time. He's wearing heavy, imperial robes and lounging in front of him, robes pulled loose, is Mayuzumi, biting on the nail of his thumb as he hovers a calligraphy brush over a roll of parchment, considering something. Seijuurou wants to ask where he is, or what they're doing here, but he's too enthralled by the ink that's gathering on the tip of the brush, weighing heavily and then dropping off the end to splash onto the parchment.

He frowns and he's back in the gymnasium and Mayuzumi is staring at him, silent and accusatory, but turns away before Seijuurou can even begin a sentence.

Not that it's enough to stop Seijuurou from seeking the answers that he wants. He leaves it for now because he knows that ti's not going to get him the answers that he wants. Instead, he finds out what he can about Mayuzumi and decides that he'll go up to the roof, where Mayuzumi typically spends his lunch breaks on his own.

He climbs them and somewhere at the back of his mind, he's climbing a different set of stairs entirely. He isn't sure where they lead, but his step doesn't falter. There's a room with a sliding door that, when pushed aside, shows Mayuzumi lying there, clearly waiting for him. 

"You took your time, your majesty," Mayuzumi tells him, raising an eyebrow and looking thoroughly unimpressed. 

"Allow me to make up for it," Seijuurou hears himself say as he steps into the room, sliding the door behind him.

Seijuurou watches with fascination as this alternate version of himself kneels on the tatami before Mayuzumi, leaning forward to kiss him slowly. Mayuzumi kisses him back, arms wrapped around him, and as they tumble back onto the pillows, Akashi takes note of all the parchment around them, covered in writing. Poetry, he thinks to himself. 

The next thing he knows, he's closing the door of the roof behind him loudly, and Mayuzumi is sitting there against the fence, a book open in his hands. He lifts his gaze lazily, taking Seijuurou in, looking as equally unimpressed as his alternate self.

"You took your time, young master," Mayuzumi greets. 

Seijuurou decides that he'll make up for it.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: dwelling on the thought that Akashi is going to end up in an arranged marriage.

"I have a dinner to attend with my parents," Seijuurou tells him as they make breakfast together. He pauses and then adds, "And some friends of the family."

Chihiro's hands still for a moment, but he covers it up quickly, continuing to stir their food. "Fine. I'll just cook for one tonight."

He knows what Seijuurou isn't saying but he has no interest in dwelling on it. He presses forward with the rest of their morning, stubbornly pretending that a dinner is just a dinner, and nothing more.

(He tries not to think of the fact that they started the same way: Seijuurou asking Chihiro out to dinner, his charm feeling so different from across a restaurant table than it did when he wore a school uniform. He tries not to think of the way Seijuurou slowly but surely won Chihiro over. He tries not think of how this time, it won't even be a challenge for him when they'll be driven by a sense of duty. He tries not to think of how none of them will have much of a choice in the matter, not him, not her, and not Chihiro—)

It shouldn't be this difficult at all, but Chihiro—

Chihiro—

"Chihiro," Seijuurou says, and it's night time, the entire day spent dwelling on things that are far out of control that it's ridiculous to even think about them in the first place. 

Seijuurou is wearing one of his better suits and Chihiro wants to run his hands over it, searching for loose threads and pulling at them to unravel it, to pull it apart until all he's left with is Seijuurou for who he is, underneath everything else that he's made of, everything that his life heaps onto his shoulders.

When he reaches for Seijuurou though, Chihiro simply rests a hand on his shoulder, thumb stroking up his neck and along his jaw, one of the more understated but affectionate touches he'll allow of himself. "Have fun." 

With that, Seijuurou is gone and Chihiro is left in a quiet apartment, still standing at the door.

He'll have to downsize, he thinks to himself, because an apartment like this is too big for one person. He'll have to significantly downscale too, move to a different area that he can afford on his own. He'll have to—

Shutting his eyes, he rests his head against the door and takes a deep breath. 

There's a late-night bookstore in town and it's always where he goes when he needs to clear his head. The staff know him, and he has his own books on the shelves; his light novels under his name, and the erotica under different pseudonyms. He mentally marks out the light novel section, a rectangular section of the floor, that is his space. It's where he feels best, the stories contained on the shelves simple and uncomplicated. Nothing more than a peek into an ordinary life, and Chihiro has always just been content with that. He doesn't need anything more. 

He frowns at the front-facing novel he's looking at, about lovers from different parts of society, who fight to stay together. He's wandered out of his space in his distraction, and into the romance section. He turns away, looking back at the two rows of shelves where he belongs, and sighs quietly. 

He returns home with no new books, and a heart that feels heavier than it did before. 

Seijuurou doesn't come home until late, but Chihiro is still sitting at his desk in the study, with his laptop open, glasses perched on his nose. He tries not to look up when Seijuurou walks in, but it's attention that Seijuurou wants. It's attention that he'll get. 

"Chihiro," is all the warning that Seijuurou gives. Then he's turning Chihiro's chair away from the desk and climbing into his lap, kissing him hard. 

The worst part, Chihiro thinks, is that he's prepared for it. He kisses back, he lets Seijuurou's fingers curl into his hair, he pushes his chair back from the desk so that Seijuurou can fit on top of him more comfortably. 

Seijuurou's mouth tastes of after dinner mints. Chihiro wonders how long he stayed after the dinner was over, or whether he left immediately, to come home to him.

It doesn't matter, he decides. Seijuurou can come home to him as much as he wants for now. There's a timer on how long this will last for, anyway. 

"Chihiro," Seijuurou mutters against his mouth, frustrated and demanding. Chihiro realises that he's let his mind wander again, his physical affection turning lukewarm. 

He wonders if Seijuurou knows what it feels like, to love someone so desperately and still be trying not to, just to avoid the unnecessary heartbreak. 

"You knew that this would happen all along," Chihiro tells him, and he likes to think that he sounds rational, not crushed.

Seijuurou makes a soft sound of dissatisfaction, pressing his face into the curve of Chihiro's neck. "So did you. Have you been holding back?"

It's a silly question to ask and Seijuurou must know it, so Chihiro doesn't even bother to answer. 

He just leans back in his chair, looking at Seijuurou, and considers that perhaps he should just stop holding back at all. 

It's going to hurt just as much, either way.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: Mayuzumi in a cafe with a ring he regrets buying.

Chihiro tries not to make big plans for his future. He's happy living a quiet, modest life and he's happy with the one that he has, sharing an apartment with Seijuurou and their cat, working part time in a bookstore while writing on his days off, not with the intention of being a published author but simply for the enjoyment of it. 

So when he steps into a jewellery store to search for plain silver engagement bands, it's quite possibly the biggest plan he's ever made in his life. Even if he wants to keep this simple, with a plain ring and a direct question, that doesn't make it anything less than what it is. 

He wonders what happened to him, that he went from happily planning a solitary life with a typewriter and a cat and more books than he has the time to read, to this. The assistant at the counter is cheerful and full of excitement when he says exactly what he's looking for. He ignores the excitement, when all he feels is quiet horror at this entire situation. He wants to be with Akashi Seijuurou for the rest of his life. Perhaps the apartment and the cat and the single bedroom gave all of that away, but it hasn't entirely hit him until he's stepped into this store: when he says that he loves Seijuurou, he actually means it. 

Chihiro walks out a few minutes later, several thousand yen poorer and with a plan forming in the back of his mind. There's a café that he and Seijuurou frequently spend time at, quiet enough that they can claim the comfortable couches at the back, where Chihiro can write and Seijuurou can read. It would be a nice place to ask the question, he decides. A place that they both like. 

When he invites Seijuurou to go to the café with him, he has the ring box sitting in his pocket. Seijuurou is soft and solemn, the way that he sometimes is after he's just gotten off the phone with his father. Chihiro feels ridiculous for just how much he's looking forward to seeing that expression change, in just a few minutes. 

They walk to the café together and when they sit, Seijuurou takes a deep breath. 

"I want to ask you something," he tells Chihiro. 

"I'll exchange a question for a question, then," Chihiro replies. "You can go first. I'm generous like that."

The corner of Seijuurou's mouth quirks upward in an unsuccessful attempt at a smile, and then he sighs, looking down at his hands in his lap. "My father is putting pressure on me to take over the company. To make decisions not for the good of myself but the good of the family. He's brought up the subject of marriage."

"Oh," Chihiro breathes, and he doesn't think that he likes where this is going.

"I don't mind disappointing my father, when I'm no stranger to it," Seijuurou says, looking up and holding Chihiro's eyes. "He won't approve of what I have now. I know that. I wanted to ask you if this is something worth fighting him for. I wanted to know if you think this will last, if I do." 

Chihiro takes a deep breath, clenching his hand around the box sitting in his pocket. He knows the answer that he wants to give, but he doesn't know if he wants to see Seijuurou suffer that much, just for his sake. 

"I don't think that's something I can decide," he answers at length. "If you want to marry someone your father picks out for you and lead the company like you were meant to, then… fine. Do it." 

"What about you?" Seijuurou asks, and Chihiro has always hated how piercing his gaze can feel. 

"What about me?" Chihiro laughs without humour. "It's your decision." 

It's clearly not the answer that Seijuurou wanted, but that's okay. It's not the answer Chihiro wants to give, either. 

"What did you want to ask?" Seijuurou asks, leaning back in his seat, his expression shuttered. 

With a deep breath, Chihiro mirrors Seijuurou's pose and looks away. "Nothing important."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Written for the prompt: three-piece suit. (AU in which Mayuzumi is also from a rich family)
> 
> This one's NSFW.

Mayuzumi hates these parties. 

He hates wasting his time at them and he hates the fact that he's expected to participate in conversation now. When he was younger, he could get away with hiding himself away in a corner and reading one of the light novels he'd snuck along with him, but now that he's graduated from university, his parents expect him to actually participate in conversations and it means that he can't get away with hiding away any more.

It means that it's easier for Akashi Seijuurou to find him, trapping him in conversations that Mayuzumi can't quite pull himself back out of. The sole heir to the Akashi fortune is, just as Mayuzumi expects, a little cracked from all the pressure, smoothly hiding it under the surface just like all the rest of the rich kids. Akashi is also, to Mayuzumi's surprise, determined to get into his pants. 

He flirts openly, his words just veiled enough that he can slip it into polite conversation in front of everyone else with an unassuming smile, leaving Mayuzumi's neck feeling too warm under his suit and tie. It happens at every single party and that alone is enough to have Mayuzumi dread attending them. 

Tonight is no different, except it's at the Akashi Manor and that means he's probably got something planned. Mayuzumi is exhausted just thinking about having to spend all night with Akashi watching him with that predatory look that no one else seems to notice, just waiting for him to give in. Mayuzumi's will isn't that strong. Akashi, as much as he irritates Mayuzumi, is difficult to ignore, difficult not to want. 

"Chihiro," Akashi greets with a pleasant smile, the moment that his family arrives. "I was hoping you'd come." 

Mayuzumi looks him in the eye and replies, low enough that only Akashi hears, "The pleasure is mine tonight, Seijuurou." 

He walks away, but not before he sees Akashi blinking at him in surprise. Mayuzumi bites back his smile and sets about greeting the rest of the guests, looking interested enough in their conversations that his parents are appeased, waiting for them to grow distracted by their own conversations before he slips away. 

Akashi is waiting for him, just out of sight. He commands much more attention in a room than Mayuzumi does and it's harder for him to slip away in the middle of a crowd. Mayuzumi takes him by the wrist, continuing to walk.

"Do you know where you're going?" Akashi inquires, matching Mayuzumi's pace so that they're walking beside each other, when Mayuzumi wanted to drag him. Mayuzumi doesn't doubt the fact that this is on purpose. 

"I'm sure I'll manage," Mayuzumi replies, tightening his grip on Akashi's wrist, noticing just how delicate it feels under his fingers. He sees a door coming up, too small to actually lead to a room, and he decides that it will do. 

"Chihiro—" Akashi says with surprise, as Mayuzumi opens the door and shoves him into the closet. It's satisfying to be the one throwing Akashi off for a change. It's dark in here, except for the light that makes its way through the crack in the door, from where it doesn't close all the way. It's just enough for Mayuzumi to make out Akashi's bewildered expression, for the couple of seconds before he leans in for a rough kiss.

He can feel Akashi gasp into it more than he actually hears it, his heart pounding too loudly in his head to make out any sounds. Akashi's hands are on his suit jacket, fingers digging into the lapels and tugging, but Mayuzumi hums low in the back of his throat and steps back, out of reach. 

Akashi, as he always does for these events, is wearing a three piece suit. It's tailored to fit him perfectly and Mayuzumi is irritated with just how good it looks on him. He undoes the buttons of Akashi's vest, letting it hang open with his jacket, tie still pinned into place. Mayuzumi tugs at the pin, not caring about the sound it makes as he drops it to the floor, pulling Akashi's tie loose before unbuttoning his shirt. 

"You're eager," Akashi notes, raising an eyebrow at him. "How long did you hold yourself back, Chihiro?"

"Quiet," Mayuzumi mutters, balling Akashi's tie up and stuffing it into his mouth, pretending not to notice the way Akashi opens his mouth for it eagerly. 

He unbuckles Akashi's belt, leaving it hanging open as he unzips the pants next, pulling them down just enough to free Akashi's cock. It's half hard already and Mayuzumi wants to snort, wants to point out that Akashi's the eager one here, but his mouth feels too dry for it right now. 

Instead, he just slides his hand into Akashi's briefs, fingers closing around his cock and stroking.

The tie doesn't stop Akashi from moaning, like he doesn't even care about being caught. Let someone find them, Mayuzumi thinks to himself. He's the sole heir to his family's company too but Akashi will suffer more for it. 

"You're insufferable," he says, too breathless to sound angry, and nips at the juncture between Akashi's jaw and neck, earning a louder moan this time. He keeps stroking Akashi, feeling him rock his hips in reply, seeking more friction. Mayuzumi picks up his pace, twisting his wrist, thumbing at the head, just like when he's jerking himself off. Akashi whimpers this time, so high-pitched that Mayuzumi pulls the tie out of his mouth, just to kiss the sound out of him. 

"Come on," he demands, impatient, eager, his head spinning and his heart pounding. "Just come already." 

Akashi, the brat, holds off for as long as he can. It might not take long, but it's enough to have Mayuzumi tightening his grip around Akashi's cock, enough to edge into painful territory. Of course that's what makes Akashi come, Mayuzumi thinks. Of course.

He takes a step back, letting Akashi come all over himself, dirtying his shirt, his vest, his pants, and hums to himself at the sight.

"You're a fucking mess," Mayuzumi mutters, dropping Akashi's spit-soaked tie to the floor. 

He leans in, licking into Akashi's mouth and indulging in the taste of him, then turns around to leave.


End file.
